


Delivery

by Chamaelirium



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Ben Solo is SOFT AS FUCK, Ben Solo is a sweetheart, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Grief, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Rey is a widow, Rey is having a hard time, hot delivery guy, kindness in action, sorry in advance for the angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2020-02-21 16:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18706009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chamaelirium/pseuds/Chamaelirium
Summary: Sometimes all you need is kindness.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had this idea a couple of nights ago when I should have been asleep, and what was I to do but obey! It’s always hard to write about grief, even fictional.

It wasn’t how Rey had imagined it would be.

 

She thought there had been enough heartbreak in her life that her heart had been toughened, made resistant to hurt. Rey thought she would be strong enough to bear any pain, not knowing that each new tragedy carved its own piece out of your heart and left an empty, dull void behind.

 

It had not even been a week since the funeral, since she had stood in the obscenely bright sunshine and watched the crowds who had come to pay tribute to Poe - the many friends he had made in his lifetime, his boisterous, extended family who were united in their grief - but it already felt like a millennia had passed.

 

It had not even been two weeks since the phone call, the one she had almost been expecting, dreading, since Poe, who was never late home from work, had been hours overdue.

 

_We’re so sorry ma’am... instantly fatal... head on collision... identify the deceased..._

 

Their words had buzzed in her ears like hornets behind glass, feeling faraway and unreal, not really touching her, though she could feel their power to sting. The neighbour came over to watch the children while she drove to the morgue, still locked in the fog that had covered her the instant she had answered the phone.

 

From her place in the fog she watched as they pulled back the covering to show his poor maimed body. She felt herself nod even as her eyes took in those dark curls, graced with a dignified sprinkling of silver, that she had once run her fingers through, even as those eyes drifted lower to his now closed eyelids, face almost entirely untouched in the wreckage of his body. Feeling as though she was being smothered, she stumbled from the room, gasping for air, feeling hands touching her to steady, voices asking if she needed to sit down, _ma’am, are you ok? Here, have a drink of water._ Those same hands pressing a cold, plastic cup full of water into her nerveless fingers which almost immediately surrendered the weight of it to fall and splash to the ground.

 

There was the sound of his parents arriving, his mother weeping loudly and father unable to speak, and although they immediately surrounded Rey with their arms and warmth, nothing penetrated the fog that seemed to grow thicker with every passing moment. Her vision was tunnelled, narrowed to a single point in front of her while the rest was darkness.

 

Papers to sign, even now, release forms for organ donation (his wish, not hers), all bewildering and incomprehensible to her, her fingers trembling as she held the pen and tried to focus the tunnel into the words, to understand everything they were asking of her.

 

Then the relief of outside, her father in law taking her keys and insisting he drive her home - why should it matter now? What was home without him? Asking if the children knew what had happened, if she needed them to stay with her. The dam had broken then and she wept - wailed like a baby who had been left in a cold and darkened room alone and could not imagine anyone ever coming for them.

 

She had slept that night - or in truth, not slept, but watched the wall with sandpaper eyes, her children sleeping on either side of her, their grief spent for now and their breaths steady and slow, tears dried in their lashes.

 

And now, here, a scant double handful of days later, she wondered when her heart would start beating again.

 

All around her, life spun onwards. Somehow, the world kept turning. It felt like an insult, as if the entire mechanism of life should have ground to a halt, even if it was just for one day, to mourn his passing. Instead she carried her grief tucked under her heart, hidden away, while the girl behind the counter and the boy who delivered the paper and the children’s bus driver gave their usual shallow smiles and greetings. Her face moved in the semblance of a smile and meaningless words were spoken to each of these strangers, though her eyes never followed suit. Dark and haunted from sleepless nights, they spoke of her grief to anyone who dared look closely.

 

Which in a world of distance and impersonal encounters, nobody ever did.

 

————————————————-

 

“Moooom! Ben’s at the door!” The yell came from the general direction of the front room, and drifted into the kitchen where Rey stood, hands in the sink, staring at the wall in front of her as the water cooled. The sound of her daughters voice brought her out of her reverie, and she picked up a fork, looking at it critically.

 

“Can’t you answer it for me, BB?” _Mommy doesn’t feel like talking to anyone right now_ , were the unspoken words.

 

“I can’t! I’m painting!” Rey sighed half-heartedly and turned, grabbing a tea towel and wiping her hands. As she walked towards the front door she could see through the glass beside it that it was indeed their usual delivery guy. Ben was kind of hard to miss, firmly on the other side of six feet and all. He’d been delivering their mail for nearly six years now, ever since they had moved into this house and she’d had Bonnie Bell. Rob, her firstborn, had been four at the time and to him, this was the home he remembered most, where they’d stayed the longest. Right now he was in his room, where he had spent most of his time following his fathers death, reading or playing video games.

 

Taking a deep breath as she walked down the hall, Rey plastered on what she hoped was a socially acceptable smile and opened the door. Ben stood silhouetted in the bright sunshine, document satchel under one arm and scanning device in the other.

 

“Hey, how’re you doing today, ma’am?” his deep voice rumbled. Rey could not see the expression on his face as the sun was at his back, so she squinted a bit and mumbled something generic in return, taking the device from his hands and signing her name with the stylus that hung from it. Rey Dameron. Her hands shook a little more than usual, and she was glad to hand it over in exchange for the parcel.

 

“Hey Ben!” BB yelled from inside the house.

 

“Hey kiddo, hope you’re being good for your mom,” he called back, and chuckled as the sound of BB’s snort could be heard echoing down the hall. “Thanks ma’am. Hope you have a good afternoon?” He ended it as a question and Rey could almost feel his eyes looking over her face. She wondered if he could read what was written there, and made the effort to move her face into the semblance of a smile again, hoping he wouldn’t feel the need to ask questions. She could not bear the questions, which came innocently and tore off the barely healed scabs and made her bleed anew. Ben paused for a moment longer and seemed about to speak, before turning and with a wave, headed back to his van parked on the driveway.

 

With a shaking breath, Rey turned and went back inside, blinking her eyes against the brightness that was etched onto her retinas. She pressed her back against the door and stared at the parcel in her hands. It bore the address of her husbands lawyer, and at the sight of it her heart sank. The thought of having to wade through yet more legal jargon, to be reminded yet again that he was not there to help her out, to take the burden from her with his wide, flashing smile and a quick kiss to her temple, was too much for her.

 

Sinking to the floor with the satchel clutched to her chest, Rey let the tears flow yet again. A part of her brain wondered if they were leaving tracks, wearing away canyons in her face with their constant flow, whether they would keep flowing until she simply washed away. She pressed her forehead to her knees and let them drip into her lap, feeling that great emptiness inside her bloom yet again. The pieces taken by her father, then her mother, and now her husband, left her feeling hollowed out, like an old tree after too many forest fires.

 

The sound of her daughter humming in the next room reminded her of what she had to go on for - her children. Bright, mischievous, red-headed BB (who refused to let anyone use her full name because it’s so silly, mom), and serious, thoughtful Robert, with a head full of dark curls like his father and the bluest eyes she had ever looked into. Eyes that reminded her of her mother, one of the few memories she had retained from childhood, before everything changed and the round of strangers and foster homes began. A fierceness rose up in Rey at the thought of either of her children ever having to go through what she did, and it drove her to wipe her eyes roughly with one sleeve, slowing her breathing and counting as she did.

 

_One one thousand... two one thousand... three one thousand..._

 

At the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs she scrambled to her feet, wiping her eyes once more. The sight of his mother crying seemed to upset Rob almost more than his fathers death, and Rey did not want to upset him yet again today.

 

“Hey mom, was that Ben?”

 

Rey hoped her eyes would not betray her when she answered, “Sure was, R2, he was just dropping off some more papers.” She waved the parcel in front of him and his face fell.

 

“Oh... I kinda wanted to say hi and tell him about ‘Kingdom’.”

 

Rey reached out with one hand and ruffled his curls, which caused him to duck out of her reach.

“What did you want to tell him, hun?”

 

“Just some stuff about the next level I was trying to get to. He gave me some hints last time.”

 

“Does he play it too?”

 

Rob nodded enthusiastically. “He’s gotten way further than me, too. Like, I’m pretty sure he’s gonna have to fight the final boss soon.” Rey was not very familiar with the game, having only watched over Rob’s shoulder a few times while he played, but it seemed to involve a lot of what seemed to be Samurai warriors in space. Rob had sunken completely into playing it after... her train of thought stumbled at this direction and she intentionally turned it elsewhere.

 

“I’m sure you can talk to him next time he comes over. He seems to like talking with you too.” A genuine smile was shared between them at these words, and Rey felt grateful for the presence of someone in their life who just seemed to be kind without any agenda. She felt even more grateful at this point that he did not know what had happened, so she did not have to bear the sympathetic looks and the explanations. Rob turned to head back up the stairs, and Rey called after him.

 

“Dinners not for a while yet, so come down if you’re hungry. I don’t want dirty plates all over your room!” A noncommittal grunt was all she heard before his door slammed once more. Sighing, she headed back into the kitchen to start preparing for dinner. 

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn a little more about how Master Benjamin came to be delivering parcels. We shall get to the meat of it soon, I promise!

Ben drove back to the depot, squinting against the afternoon light despite sunglasses. The route was familiar, driven so often that he hardly needed to think about it anymore. He still thought of the job as temporary, just a stopgap until he could get his head back in the game and go back to his six figure salary career in the city. Leia has taken pity on him and given him a route and the keys to a van, pressing them into his hands with a significant look that he could almost hear.

 

_Don’t crash the damn car, Benjamin._

 

He was grateful, although at the time he’d rolled his eyes at her and stomped out of the tiny office and into the mail sorting room. The breakup that had driven him back to his home town had been messy, leaving his heart damaged and bleeding from betrayal and deceit. Bazine had not even had the dignity to look embarrassed or ashamed when the truth finally came out, she simply laughed at his shock and anger. Once she had removed herself and her belongings from the penthouse they had shared, he broke he lease, muttering to the landlord that he could do whatever he damn well wanted with all of Ben’s expensive furnishings and artwork. It meant nothing to him anymore, so why bother bringing it with him?

 

As he pulled into the large warehouse and parked, he thought of the last delivery he had made. Rey and her kids were a stop he often looked forward to. They always seemed happy to see him, the kids telling him all about whatever latest book or game they were into, and it was easy to talk with Rey, with her warm smile and easygoing attitude. _It sure didn’t hurt the way her eyes crinkle up when she smiles big._ He shook his head mentally. She was married, of course. He had even met her husband a few times briefly. Seemed like a nice enough guy, charming smile and dark curly hair, felt very Italian or possibly Greek.

 

Something had been off, though, about the way she had answered the door today. Her eyes, usually warm and friendly, had been puffy, red rimmed, and tired. She had tried to muster up her usual smile but it looked strained, as though she had to force it. It stuck in the back of his mind as he walked past the other vehicles parked in a row, most of the other couriers already done for the day. Phas was hanging out in front of the office talking with Hux, or at least being talked to by him. His hands were waving around animatedly, and he looked pissed off about something, which, to be fair, was really his default expression. Seeing Phasma shift her gaze to something other than himself, Hux turned and scowled at Ben.

 

“Hey there, Hugs,” Ben smirked as he walked past, “get bitten by any dogs today? Or did none of them bother since there’s not enough meat on you?” Phasma snorted at his words and then hastily tried to suppress her laughter as Ben walked through the office door, closing it behind him. He could hear Hux’s strident tones cut through the thin plywood and hid a grin as he strode towards his mothers desk. She raised one eyebrow at his approach.

 

“Aren’t you tired of yanking his chain yet? You may not get on with him, but he is one of my better drivers.”

 

“I’ll quit when he stops being such an easy target, _mom_.” He handed his scanner to her and sat down heavily in one of the wheeled office chairs, the action sending it scooting backwards slightly. Leia simply looked at him, a second eyebrow joining the first. He knew that look, and braced himself for the inevitable, leaning back in his chair with one knee crossed over the other.

 

“And when are you finally gonna get a real job, Benjamin? Not that your father and I haven’t enjoyed having you back home, but even I’d be the first to admit that this is a little beneath your... usual style of employment.” Ben knew she had never approved of his becoming a lawyer, muttering about cutthroats and rogues, wondering how she had justified his fathers “occasional”clandestine activities all those years ago, if that was her opinion on perfectly legal professionals. Ben just raised his eyebrow in return, and let her ramble on for a while longer. When she started to reach the part about finding a _nice, normal girl, Benjamin, someone you can bring home for thanksgiving dinner, and maybe even Christmas,_ he stood, interrupting Leia in the middle of her sentence and giving her a cheery smile before heading to the door once again, hanging his keys on the hook the corresponded to his vehicle.

 

“See you tomorrow, mom!” He left Leia spluttering in his wake and strode quickly towards the place where he had parked his bike that morning. He noticed that Hux seemed to have already left, a fact for which he was grateful, and he waved quickly to Phasma, who winked at him as he walked by.

 

Grabbing and pulling on his helmet, Ben paused for a brief moment, closing his eyes. Perhaps this was the most difficult change of them all. Opening them once more, he stared down at his bike - not motor bike, not sleek racing bike, not chrome and leather Harley Davidson - but 10 speed mountain bike. He’d sold his McLaren almost out of spite, not wishing to remember all the times he and Bazine had... well. It was times like this where he regretted his choice, swinging onto the saddle and pushing off into the late afternoon sun. At least it wasn’t raining today, so he didn’t have to bear the indignity of being a thirtysomething getting a lift from his mother.

 

On the plus side, at least he was fitter than he had been when he was enjoying his rather more decadent and sedentary lifestyle, that had entered around time at the office, drinks in exclusive nightclubs, parties in his apartment, and five star restaurant meals.

 

The thirty minute ride home through small town suburbia gave him plenty of time to think, and he found his thoughts straying back to Rey. Something had definitely been off. Just thinking about her eyes gave him an uncomfortable feeling in his gut, a niggling feeling that maybe she needed something, or just needed to talk. He was just pulling into the underground garage of the ageing apartment block he called home when he resolved to do something about it the next day. Even if there was nothing to deliver, surely he could swing past, ask after the kids or something and see if he had imagined it all.

 

Home, as it was currently, resided at the top of a narrow, slightly musty, flight of concrete stairs. The apartments themselves had likely been built some forty years earlier, and while they had no doubt been considered chic at the time, they were now even pushing the “retro” label and were simply old. Khaki green countertops in kitchen and bathroom, orange tiles and half threadbare, shaggy carpet. Ben let himself in and dropped his keys on the small kitchen table next to a collection of somewhat used coffee cups and takeaway containers. It wasn’t that he couldn’t cook, but he had become lazy about it, and chose to order in whenever he could.

 

Sitting alone at his kitchen table later that evening, enjoying Rabia’s finest butter chicken and basmati, he was struck again by the contrast to his old life. Working for the First Order had meant money, power, and an endless stream of people stopping by his apartment 8 the hopes that he was throwing yet another party. There had been Bazine - at that moment he bit into a whole cardamom pod and his mouth twisted from the pungent flavour - draping herself elegantly over furniture, her biting, sarcastic wit that he had once found so amusing, but now held no appeal to him. The only good part about the whole affair ending as it did, was the opportunity to finally cut ties with Snoke, and his increasingly suspect business practices.

 

He had ranted and raved at Ben as he stood before his desk, haranguing him, insulting his past work, implying his future would be nothing without his guiding hand, but by that point nothing would sway Ben. He was after all his mothers son, and had a significant helping of her tenacity and stubborn nature.

 

Leia hadn’t said much when she’d opened the door to find her only son standing there, dark glasses not quite managing to hide his slightly sheepish expression. A raised eyebrow, a quick hug that he hadn’t quite had time to return, and she’d pulled him inside, closing the door.

 

It had been five years, and it still stung to think about. His pride was reduced to shreds in more ways than one, and the healing process had been slow. He made friends with his fellow workmates - how his mother had chosen them to hire still mystified him somewhat - the tall, blonde Phasma, snippy redheaded Hux, and even the quiet, mouseish Mitaka, who had seemed almost afraid of Ben when they first met.

 

Most of his childhood friends had jumped town the moment they graduated high school, so there were few people his own age that he knew anymore.

 

After a few more minutes travelling down his well worn self pity path, Ben found himself staring into his curry, and shook his head. _Get your head out of your ass, Solo._

 

That night, he fell asleep on the recliner while the tv rattled on to nobody.

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many authors I know have come out of the woodwork, inspired by TROS to give Ben and Rey the HEA they deserved. I hope I can deliver one as well!

Growing up, Rey had spent more time headfirst under the hood of various vehicles than almost anywhere else. To escape the leering gaze and foul mouth of her foster father, she had become used to spending most of her time deep in his salvage yard, as far away as she could get and still be within his property. Her fascination with engines and all things mechanical grew over the years.

Her walk to school daily took her past the local garage and she would deliberately slow down, dragging her feet and peering through the huge open roller doors at whatever was up on the lift at the time, guts open and parts strewn everywhere. If any of the mechanics actually glanced her way, she usually picked up her pace immediately, pretending as though she wasn’t intensely interested in everything they were doing.

Books checked out from the library and hidden in her bedroom, read by torchlight after lights out, taught her the names of the moving parts. The grizzled owner of the garage, who introduced himself as Han after Rey had found him waiting slouched against the garage wall one afternoon on her way home, had taught her how they fitted together and the magic that made them move. She didn’t dare stay long in the afternoons, as Plutt expected her home, but in the limited time she had she absorbed as much information as she could.

Han was grumpy and taciturn at times, but he also had a charming half smile that often coaxed an answering smile from her. If he noticed how thin she was he never commented, but instead made a point of eating in front of her and grumbling that she could have some if _ya want, or not, makes no difference to me_. Rey had been hungry too often in her short life to refuse food out of a sense of pride, but she still made the effort to at least try to eat surreptitiously.

Han sometimes talked about his family, and she got the impression that his son was somewhat of a cause of grief for him and his wife. He sounded very wild, and Han was worried that he’d gotten mixed up with some older kids, and they were leading him down a rough path. Rey worried for this unknown son, who Han referred to as “the kid”, and hoped in some way that he would come good one day, and that the worried line that appeared between Han’s eyebrows when he spoke of him would disappear.

Together they had worked on restoring the car Han lovingly referred to as the Falcon, a silver beast of a vehicle that had clearly been in a wreck at some point in the past. She wanted to ask him about it, but was a little afraid to broach the subject. Instead she spent her stolen precious minutes every day absorbing as much as she could from Han, until she had to grab her school bag and begin the walk home, if it could be called that.

When she had met Poe straight out of high school, he had swept her off her feet. His charm, warm eyes, and dark curls had been like nothing she’d ever experienced. His family were warm and welcoming (if a little overwhelming at times with their enthusiastic affection) and she had been swept up in it all with little to no regrets about what she left behind. When they were married she had soon discovered he fancied himself a bit of a mechanic also, and when their son arrived on the scene soon after, found herself leaving things of that nature to him. She didn’t regret it, as her life was full of joy for the first time ever.

Sometimes she thought of her gruff friend with a pang, and wondered if he was still working at the same garage. She and Poe had moved to a different area of town, and Rey found herself soon caught up in playgroups and school runs, and her desire to swing past one day and check in became relegated to the back shelf.

And now she found herself, head under the hood once again after years of not touching an engine, tears blurring her vision as she struggled to unscrew the oil cap with sweaty hands. Wiping the back of one hand over her eyes in frustration, Rey took a deep breath to steady herself. BB and Rob were playing together on the trampoline, their screams of laughter comforting in a way after not hearing them laugh outright for weeks.

The sun was hot on her back, and sweat dripped down between her shoulder blades as she fumbled with their simple task of checking the oil. She hadn’t forgotten how - Han would have been quietly horrified with her if she had - but as with so many mundane tasks these days, she was weighed down with grief and the knowledge that there was nobody there to help her now. She was finally able to unscrew the cap and pulled out the dipstick, the end shaking a little in her hands as she peered at it. Low, of course, and Rey turned to grab the bottle of oil she had brought from the garage. She unscrewed the lid and went to pour it, the smell triggering something in her, and a wave of grief chose at that moment to wash over everything. She hurriedly screwed the lid back on with shaking hands, dropped the bottle, and squatted in the driveway, hands over her face, tears flowing from that endless well inside her.

She wept quietly, not wanting to disturb the kids and upset them yet again, but her shoulders shook with the effort. When a pair of large boots appeared in her vision, followed by legs in a dark blue uniform, she jerked her head upwards in surprise. She found that whoever it was had crouched down in front of her, and the concerned face of Ben filled her vision.

_________________________________________________

 

It had been a quiet day for Ben, a fact for which he was thankful as it meant he could finish early. He wasn’t exactly sure if he had a plan, just that a pair of sad eyes had been haunting him since the day before, and that he wanted to help somehow. He’d run his usual delivery route, windows down in an attempt to stay cool. It was still only June, and already “hotter than the Devils asshole” as his father had charmingly put it.

During his lunch break at the local deli run by an old family friend, who was known to everyone only as Maz, he had eyed off the freezer full of icecreams thoughtfully. Now a couple of fudge pops were stored in the tiny fridge/freezer that lived in the back of his van. He wasn’t quite sure of his logic there, but he figured it couldn’t hurt to offer the kids something on such a hot day.

Finally he found himself driving through Rey’s neighbourhood, wondering again why he apparently was going to insist on poking his not inconsiderable nose where it likely didn’t belong. His gut was telling him something was not right, and after many years of ignoring it at his own expense, he now tended to listen when it prodded him. He pulled into the driveway, noticing first that the hood was up on the old blue Cherokee, and second that Rey was under it, fumbling with a bottle of oil.

As he watched, she dropped it, and sank down to her haunches, hands pressed into her face. He killed the engine and climbed out quickly, walking to where Rey sat, her shoulders shaking with some misery he couldn’t yet understand. For a moment he was filled with a feeling of helplessness, not knowing if he should really be here, or if he should leave her in peace. Setting his mouth firmly, he set the doubt aside went to her, kneeling down.

As she finally noticed his presence and looked up at him, he saw the raw misery in her eyes, and it twisted some part inside him to see it.

“Rey... hey, are you ok?” _Oh well done, moron, great opening question. She’s literally crying in her driveway_. He put out one hand helplessly, not watching to touch her without her permission, but unsure of what to do next. Her eyes were overflowing as she looked up at him, the same sadness he had glimpsed yesterday back in full force.

“Can I... can I get someone for you? Are you hurt?” His eyes searched her hands and arms, looking for an injury that may or may not have been there, searching for some cause of the tears. A strangled sob tore from her throat, almost like a scream, and she fell forwards, her hands once again covering her eyes. Ben instinctively reached out and caught her with his hands, afraid she was going to hurt herself on the rough concrete. Her whole body shook but she was silent once more, holding the force of it all within her.

“Hey Ben!” The kids had finally noticed him as well, and were calling and waving from the trampoline. Torn between responding to them, and keeping Rey upright, Ben decided on a course of action.

“Rey, can you stand up for a second? Let me help you off the driveway.” She nodded at his quiet question and he helped her up, hands gripping her elbows, walking her over to the grass out of sight of the kids, and helping her sit again. “I’ll be right back, ok?” He waited until she had nodded once before he stood, walking back to his van and waving to the two children who were bouncing and shrieking madly.

Ducking into the passenger side quickly, he grabbed the two icecreams, grateful now that he’d had the foresight to buy them earlier. Walking quickly to where they waited, he smiled and waved.

“Hey guys, I brought you something cold!” They shrieked with glee as they saw what he had in his hands, grabbing them and sitting on the edge of the trampoline, quickly ripping off the paper and tearing into the cold treat.

“Hey kids, I don’t want to seem rude, but can I ask if your mom is ok? She’s uh, she seems a little... sad.” even as he said it Ben shook his head mentally. Sad didn’t seem to cover it adequately. Both kids sobered up immediately at his question, but it was Rob who spoke.

“She’s sad about dad.” Robs eyes grew suspiciously shiny, but he tried to hide it by looking away, suddenly deeply interested in his icecream. Ben had a really bad feeling about what was going to come next.

“Did something happen to him?” BB nodded, her own eyes filling as her bothers had, but not ashamed of it as he was.

“Daddy was in an accident. Mom said the man in the other car had been drinking, or something. Nana said he’s in heaven now.” She sniffed hard as she said it, tears spilling down her freckled cheeks. Ben felt like the bottom of his stomach had dropped out as her words sank in. _Oh God, her husband was killed. These kids have lost their dad. Shit shit shit_. He was suddenly desperate to get back to Rey, who he had left sitting on the grass. He put out a hand hesitantly and ruffled BB’s ginger curls.

“I’m so sorry about your dad, guys. I... that must be the worst.” They both nodded at his words, faces sad.

“We miss him a lot. Mom cries all the time, even when she thinks we don’t know.” BB had the startling clarity that kids often did, seeing right through Reys attempts to keep her grief hidden. Rob looked away once again, and Ben could see his eyes grow wet once more.

“Listen kids, I need to and check on your mom. Are you ok here for a bit?” They nodded, BB even mustering up a smile again. He gave her hair one last ruffle before he turned and headed over to where Rey sat, head on her knees. Kneeling in front of her again he was once again unsure of what to do. His instinct was to comfort her, but he didn’t want to cross any inappropriate boundaries.

“Rey,” he spoke quietly, “the kids told me what happened. God Rey, I’m so sorry...” as he spoke she threw herself towards him, a high, keening coming from her throat. He caught her as best he could, pulling her towards his chest as gently as possible. Her hands had gripped the front of his shirt and she sobbed into it, wet patches growing there as her tears flowed freely. Ben settled for rubbing one hand up and down her back slowly, knowing nothing he could say would make it better. He knelt in the grass, holding her through her storm of mourning, feeling as though his heart was tearing itself in two for this family.

________________________________________________

Rey felt as though she had cried oceans and oceans. Her breathing was short and jerky, and the occasional sob still worked its way loose, even when she thought the storm was done. After a while she became aware of the large hand smoothing itself over her back, and the broad chest underneath her hands, rumbling with some kind of soothing, wordless hum.

Heat flooded her face and she felt ashamed of her display of emotions, ashamed of the comfort she had received from someone who was... what? Not exactly a stranger, not exactly a friend. Part of her brain knew that her shame was unwarranted, that he had offered comfort freely and she hadn’t begged for it. The other part of her caused her to push back on that broad chest, her hands feeling the wetness she had left behind there. She couldn’t look him in the eye, so she kept hers downcast.

“Rey,” at the sound of her name, she started, feeling awkward. A large hand moved under her chin, fingers gently encouraging her to look upwards at him. Ben’s face was close to hers, and she could see the concern is his eyes, and it caused more tears to well up. _I’m so tired of crying_ , was all she could think.

“Hey, I’m so sorry. I... don’t think I could say anything to make it hurt less, but I just wanted you to know that I’m here, if there’s anything I can do...” Rey tried her best to muster up a wobbling smile, not wanting to worry him any further.

“I’m ok,” she managed, though her voice was rough and gravelly and she clearly was not ok. He nodded slowly, releasing her and giving her room to sit back and collect herself.

“I, uh, gave the kids an icecream each, I hope that was ok.” She nodded, her smile becoming a little more solid at his thoughtfulness.

“Thanks Ben. I... really am ok. I mean, I will be.” He was still looking into her eyes with that piercing gaze, his worry clearly written over his face. “I don’t want to keep you from work...” He did smile at that, if a little bashfully.

“I was done for the day already. Thought I’d stop by and say hi.” He shrugged ruefully at his own words, and Rey guessed that perhaps something in her face the day before had given her away. It was a relief of sorts, to know that she didn’t have to pretend in front of at least one person. That he knew, and wasn’t judging her.   
“Listen, Rey, is it ok if I... stop by sometimes? Just to make sure you guys are doing ok?” Rey nodded mutely, for once feeling like it might be ok to accept help, and feeling a strange kind of trust in this near stranger. He had never shown anything but kindness for her and her family, and her lonely soul was grateful for the care he was offering. He smiled, just a quirk of one corner of his mouth, and for a moment her heart twisted, the motion so familiar. Who did it remind her of?

“Ok. I’ll let you be for now.” His statement was almost a question, and she nodded to reassure him that she was, for the moment, alright. He smiled again, and this time it was a proper, full smile, lighting up his whole face. He stood, offering her a large hand and helping her to her feet. He squeezed it once before letting go. Remembering what she had been doing when he arrived, he looked at the bottle of oil laying on its side in the driveway.

“Can I help you with anything else before I go?” He asked, and she shook her head, grateful again for his offer of help. “It’s ok, I’ve got this.” He seemed to take her at her word, nodded, and turned to go, waving at the kids who were still sitting on the edge of the trampoline, finishing their fudge pops. As he reached his van he turned around once more, looking at Rey who stood, trying to look cheerful as she waved goodbye. He lifted one hand and waved, before climbing in and starting the engine.

_______________________________________________

Ben pulled into the warehouse a little more abruptly than usual, brakes squealing slightly on the smooth concrete floor. He leapt from the van, slamming the door behind him, and grateful for the absence of his co-workers. Making straight for his mother’s office, he threw himself into the office chair, startling Leia who clearly hadn’t been expecting him.

“Mom,” he began, and then paused, not quite knowing where to start. “I need to ask you something.”

Her eyes immediately lit up at his words, and she chuckled. “What’s her name?”

“Seriously, mom?” His eyes rolled back into his head for a moment, feeling like a teenager again. “Hey name is Rey. She’s on my route, and I just found out today that her husband was killed in a car accident.”

All traces of mirth were wiped from Leia’s face at his words, and her eyes immediately brimmed with tears. “Oh, the poor girl.”

“I went there today and found her crying over an oil change. The kids told me what happened. Mom, it kind of broke my heart.” He heard his voice cracking on the last word and wasn’t ashamed to show how much it had upset him to hear it. Leia’s hand went over his and squeezed it.

“I want to help them, but I don’t know how. I’m not even sure I should be the one helping at all. I mean, they hardly know me, but the kids are really sweet and now their dad is gone and I keep thinking what if...” his voice totally broke then and he stared at his own lap, remembering how close he had come to losing his own father.

Adolescent rage, a car accident that could have been so much worse, but he’d had the chance to make things right with his dad in the years that followed. He blinked back the wetness that threatened to fall onto his lap, and felt his mother squeeze his hand again. He looked back up at her, and her own eyes were bright with unshed tears also.

“Ben, honey, you have such a soft heart like your dad.” Despite the high emotions, Ben felt his eyes roll back yet again, and chuckled.

“Don’t you dare tell him that. He’d never let me hear the end of it.” Leia smiled at her son. Despite her complaints about his job, she was so very glad that her boy had come home, and that he was still, inside, the sweet boy he had been as a child.

“If you want to do something for, Rey, was it?” He nodded in response. “I’d be more than glad to help you out. There’s a lot that can help a grieving family, make the load a little lighter.” He smiled gratefully.

“Thanks mom.”


End file.
